Our Own
by Gazlover12-Canada
Summary: "Francis, why don't we have mothers?" A short fic-let, with baby nation Arthur and big brother Francis. R&R! Another chapter has been added featuring England's Birth!
1. Mothers

"Francis, why don't we have mothers?"

The question startled the older nation, whose mouth fell open in shock. He looked down at the younger nation, whose green cloak seemed to be swallowing his small form up. Arthur's big innocent green eyes stared up at Francis as he waited for an answer. For the first time ever, Francis realized that he really didn't have a good answer.

"Why, Arthur, mon cher...we just don't. Nation's don't really have mothers, or even fathers. Not real ones anyway." He answered. Obviously it wasn't the answer that Arthur was looking for, for he frowned reaching down to pet the rabbit that was following him.

"But you say you're my big brother. An' Scotland, Ireland, and Wales are my brothers too. If I have brothers then where's my mummy?"

"Arthur mon petit, you're mistaken. You see, a human is born from a mother and a father. Nations aren't born that way." Francis said, running his hand through the child's smooth blonde locks.

"How? How are we born?" Arthur asked, or more like demanded for an answer impatiently.

"Well..." Francis hesitated, for he himself was not even sure. "We just appear. Honestly Arthur, don't you remember being born? You should, it wasn't that long ago."

"I 'member opening my eyes. I was laying on soft grass, and I looked up at the sky and saw all kinds of pretty lights. I didn't know they were stars till you told me." Arthur answered. "But that's all I can think of. Is that what being born is? Waking up?"

"That's right," Francis agreed, laying back on the soft green grass and yawning. The sun was beginning to go down, casting rays of gold upon the field that they were visiting in.

"And...and we don't have mothers." Arthur concluded, green eyes saddened.

"Non Arthur, we don't." Francis agreed, sitting up and setting Arthur on his lap. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"We make our own families as we grow. For instance, you have Scotland, Ireland, and Wales because they make up the land close to and next to you. You also have me because I'm just across the channel, and I take care of you like a big brother should."

"Oh," Arthur said, eyes lighting up in understanding. "So we make our own families. Is that what nations do? We choose brothers and sisters?"

"Exactly! Now you have it!" Francis said, kissing the top of his baby brother's head.

"I'm going to make the biggest family ever. Someday when I get to be a grownup'd nation then I'll have a ton of little brothers and sisters. I'll be the best big brother ever!"

Francis literally felt his heart melt at the other's words. Arthur was so adorable, even when he wasn't trying to be. He was so sweet and innocent. Part of Francis hoped that Arthur would stay like that forever, but he knew no such thing was possible. Not long from now Arthur would eventually have his innocence broken. He would experience war, death and destruction, just like all nations did.

"...But while I'm little, I'm glad I have you for my big brother." Arthur finally concluded, before his pink lips formed into an 'O' and his eyes began to droop. Francis cradled the toddler sized nation in his arms, causing the other to fall asleep straight away.

"I am honored, mon petit lapin. Honored."

**a/n: Not exactly sure where this came from...I was watching Rugrats in Paris (Grew up on Rugrats) and the song 'I want a mom that will last forever' came on. Then I decided to write this little fic-let. Anyway, review if you wanna :)**


	2. A nation is born

Sometimes England thought back to the day he was born. Even though it had been over a thousand years the memory was still the same as it always had been. It had been so vivid, and so very magical. He'd been such a tiny thing back then…so innocent to the world. Everything was so new and exhilarating.

Long ago, in the middle of an unoccupied forest, there was a small clearing. Though it was late in the night, the small clearing was lit from the bright shining moon and stars, along with dozens of brightly glowing fireflies. One could only be able to hear the sound of singing crickets, and the trickling noise from the small creek nearby.

In the middle of that clearing, sleeping quite soundly was a small toddler. The moon shone down on his baby blonde hair, causing it to shine like gold. His long eyelashes dusted his cheeks while they were closed, and his legs were curled up against his tummy. He was wearing a very white shirt that reached his knees, with not one single speck of dirt upon it.

As the moments passed, the tot's eyelids began to flicker. Suddenly he awoke. Green eyes, eyes that matched the very depth of the healthiest pine in the forest, opened slowly. His lips formed into an 'O' as he yawned, looking straight ahead up at the sky.

The small child gasped as the sight of the stars lighting up the beautiful black sky. Eagerly he reached his hand out, trying to grab one of the pretty things. When his tiny hands grasped nothing but air, he rolled over and tried to stand. It took a few attempts, but finally he stood on unsteady legs, looking up once again at the sky.

The soft cool dirt felt wonderful as his little toes dug into the earth. Once again he tried reaching up, only to fail yet again. Soon however, the little one's attention was brought to a small gold firefly that had landed on his nose. His nose twitched slightly, and he sneezed. If someone else had been there, they would have laughed at the toddler's shocked expression.

The firefly began to fly away. The child wanted to follow, so he tried running after it. Unfortunately running proved to be more difficult than it seemed, for he tripped over his wobbly legs and fell face first into the ground. The impact shocked him, and he lay still. His beautiful eyes welled up with tears. He sniffled, curling into himself for some sort of comfort.

Soon he heard whispers.

"Hush little nation," The voices soothed. "Fear not, little Britannia. Dry your tears."

Their voices sounded like chimes of a grand bell. Their words made the child stop his crying, and he looked for the source of the voices. Beautiful creatures that were only as big as his hand were floating around him. There were at least half a dozen, all whispering their reassurances.

"Such a darling little nation."

"You'll do great things one day…I can sense it."

"Look at the love's eyes. So green!"

He stared at the creatures, fairies, who were talking, reaching out to touch one. The fairy giggled and reached her own hand to wrap around his thumb.

"Hello sweet one. Do you know why you're here?" She asked.

Not yet knowing how to talk, the tot only looked at her with a small smile.

"You're here to create. You're here to be something powerful. You're here to add onto the world."

This was the night of Britannia, Great Britain, The British Empire….

England's birth.

**Review's would be lovely :)**

**Also, sorry if there are any mistakes. I sort of typed this on a whim. **


	3. What is a mother?

**A prequel to the first chapter:**

Arthur wanted a mother.

He'd seen them before, in the village a few miles from the forest. They seemed so...nice. Just a few days ago Francis had taken him to the village, to get him acquainted with society, or something like that. Arthur himself wasn't that old, for a nation that is. Though around 25 human years, he had the body of a toddler, and a mind that was very intelligent yet not developed enough to express himself fully.

Anyways, back to mothers. At the village he'd seen many. One woman wore a beautiful red dress, covered by a velvet cloak. She held the hand of a child who looked just a bit older than Arthur. The child suddenly tugged at the woman's sleeve, pointing towards a bakery. She smiled down at him with a loving look and walked over towards the bakery, buying a loaf of freshly baked bread for them to share. Arthur watched the whole scene, mesmerized.

"Who?" He asked, Francis, causing the teenage nation to look confused. Arthur was still working on speaking, mostly since one didn't need to talk when living in the forest with animals. The fairies spoke to him, but he was never required to answer back.

"Use sentences Arthur," Francis advised.

"Who is she?" Arthur tried again, pointing to the woman he had been so interested in. Francis mildly swatted his hand for pointing but looked where he had indicated nonetheless.

"She is just a mother Arthur. My, that bread they have looks quite good. Why don't we go get some?" Francis rambled, leading Arthur by the hand over towards the bakery stand.

"What's 'mother'?" Arthur wondered, not yet taking his eyes the the woman.

"A mother is someone who takes care of her children. She is God's gift of maternal love and power, taking care of those whom she births." Francis told him, smiling as the scene of the mother, who was now kissing her child on the head. "Now come, let us get some bread."

A few minutes and one loaf of bread later, Arthur's mind was still on mothers. Everywhere he looked he saw them! Mother's must have been a very common thing. One mother had a total of five children with her! Two babies in her arms, a little girl with her mother's same chestnut hair, and two boys who looked just a bit younger than Francis. She was scolding them about being noisy, but still she had that look...the one that had love in it.

Another mother was crooning a beautiful melody to a whimpering infant in her arms. She nuzzled her nose into the baby's face, and the baby's crying turned into cooing! It was just like magic.

"Finish your bread Arthur," Francis' voice caused the nation, who was technically just a baby himself, to stop observing all the mothers around.

Suddenly something dawned on Arthur. Where was his mother?! He was little! Just a baby, as Francis always said. Should he have a mother? Maybe she was missing...or perhaps she didn't know where Arthur was?

Francis was the only one who took care of him, but Francis said he was Arthur's big brother, not his mother. In fact now that Arthur thought about it, he had many big brothers. Francis, Scotland, Ireland, Wales...but no mom.

"Mummy, look at that red silk!" A little girl's voice stirred the little nation from his thoughts yet again. "It would make such a lovely dress!"

"Maybe for your birthday darling, if you're a good girl." Said the woman who the girl had spoken too. Arthur's eyebrows furrowed together.

"What's 'mummy' Francis?" He asked his big brother curiously. To his surprise, the elder nation laughed.

"It's just another word for mother Arthur. My, I forget how young you are sometimes!" He answered, ruffling the small nations butter blonde hair. "Now, are you ready to go back home?"

He wasn't really ready, but he nodded nonetheless. There was so much more to learn about mothers! There were so many of them, which left him once again wondering where his own was.

Francis.

He would have to ask Francis. Once they got back to the forest he would bring it up, and ask why they didn't have mummys.

Because he wanted one.

Because he _needed _one.

Everyone did.

**What do you think?**

**Btw, I was thinking about maybe doing one more chapter, in the future with a young America asking England the same question, why they don't have mothers. What do you think?**


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